Hurt
by Sweet Decadence
Summary: They think I've finally lost my mind. They've been waiting ten years for this, for me to lose my sanity. What they don't know is I lost my sanity ten years ago. I died ten years ago. Song use:: Hurt Johnny Cash


_I hurt myself today_

_To see if I still feel_

_I focus on the pain_

_The only thing that's real_

_The needle tears a hole_

_The old familiar sting_

_Try to kill it all away_

_But I remember everything_

They think I've finally lost my mind.

They've been waiting ten years for this, for me to lose my sanity.

What they don't know is I lost my sanity ten years ago. I died ten years ago.

I pull on the chain I have wrapped around my leg as hard as I can, until my calf starts to bleed. They think this act of sadism indicates I've gone crazy, apparently.

I'm not crazy.

I'm just wondering if I can actually feel anything at all anymore.

I can feel the pain.

That's reassuring.

But I don't care it hurts.

That's _not_ reassuring.

I want to care that it hurts.

I want something to take my mind off of them.

After ten years of seeing their faces in my head every moment, I want something else to focus on.

"Has wee little Sirius finally gone masochistic on me?" My damned cousin cackles from the cell across from my own.

"Shut up, Lestrange," I snap as I notice the blood pool gathering under my leg.

Cousin or not, she doesn't deserve to be called by her first name.

Not after what she did to the Longbottoms.

"I think you've got a little blood there" she cackles again as she points a filthy finger at my leg.

"I said shut the fuck up!" I roar as I throw a rock her way, which only manages to rebound off the bar and crash by my hand.

"Poor itty baby, losing his James. Poor little Sirius, losing his family," she says in a crazed singsong voice.

I wish I could get my hands around her throat.

I wish I could choke the life out of her.

I'm already serving the time for a murder I didn't commit, so why not?

Peter. Peter fucking Pettigrew.

This is all his fault.

He needs to pay.

He took away my best friend.

He took away my family

He took away my whole goddamn life.

"Who are you thinking about killing this time, my dear little cousin?" She asks dreamily. Of course she's dreamy. Everyone knows nothing gets my cousin hotter than thinking about killing someone.

Goddammit how I'll like to kill her and take satisfaction in watching the crazed light escape her eyes. I'd get nothing _but_ satisfaction in watching her life leave her emaciated body.

_What have I become_

_My sweetest friend_

_Everyone I know goes away_

_In the end_

_And you could have it all_

_My empire of dirt_

_I will let you down_

_I will make you hurt_

What am I?

I was never violent like this.

I never wished I could kill people personally.

Sure there were plenty of people I wished would die, but I never wanted to kill anyone myself.

Until Peter.

Peter betrayed us.

He thinks only James and Lily died.

He's wrong.

I died with them.

I'm nothing.

What would James think, seeing me like this? "Stop being such a bloody ninny," he'd probably tell me.

But I'll never know what he'd say.

I'll never hear Lily scold me for acting like a depressed maniac.

And Harry... little Harry.

I'll never see my Godson again.

I've missed watching him grow up.

He'd be at Hogwarts now.

And I missed it all.

I could've been there for him. I could've raised him and told him how amazing his parents were.

But I never will.

All because of that rat.

Everything I know, everyone I loved, is gone.

I'll never see them.

The only thing I'll ever see is this dirty cell.

I let them down.

I hurt them by not being their Secret-keeper.

I killed them.

_I wear this crown of thorns_

_Upon my liar's chair_

_Full of broken thoughts_

_I cannot repair_

_Beneath the stains of time_

_The feelings disappear_

_You are someone else_

_I am still right here_

I tear off a bit of my shirt and make a tourniquet around my leg. The smell of the blood is making me dizzy. It's making me think even more of all those innocent people who died.

All the innocent people who died because of me.

I've been lying to myself by saying I don't belong in here. I'm the cause of so many deaths. I should be killed. The dementors should've been forced to suck the soul out of me the moment I got here. Not that there was much of a soul left.

I glaced at the blood pool on the floor, taunting me, _haunting_ me. Bringing unwelcome thoughts. It doesn't matter what I do, or how I try to distract myself. They're still there, they're always there. I'm numb. I always will be. And I'll always be here.

_If I could start again_

_A million miles away_

_I would keep myself_

_I would find a way_

If I could start over...

Oh, to start over.

I would find little Harry.

I'd take him with me, raise his as my own.

Take care of him.

Take him far away, where no one could hurt him.

Where their ghosts wouldn't haunt me.

But I'll never be able to start again.

I'll never see Harry.

Their ghosts will haunt me until the day I die.

And I will _never_ be free.


End file.
